


Alive.

by enrcse



Category: 6 Underground (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22148590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enrcse/pseuds/enrcse
Summary: Exploring the dynamic of Two x Three post-film and how the pair would navigate through emotions and a fleeting sense of normalcy.
Relationships: Three | Javier/Two | Camille (6 Underground)
Kudos: 14





	Alive.

**Author's Note:**

> **Marked as mature as more intense scenes are likely to take place in later chapters**

The war was far from over, but perhaps it had reached an intermission. The ghosts, even after the death of Rovach, were still ghosts. No homes to go back to, no family to embrace. Not anymore. All they had was each other, and some days that was enough. Most had gone off to do their own things, free to do most anything now that they were dead.

Two had no one else, only the ghosts. Most days, she stayed at the base, tending to it while everyone did whatever it was that they wanted. Three often stayed with her, when he wasn’t visiting his mother. Some days, Two went with him. It wasn’t something she was used to anymore, the embrace of a loving hug. The way his mother would smile at her, proud of her son for bringing such a nice woman. No one had ever called her nice, not for many years anyway. She often wondered what the mother would think if she knew of the horrors she’d committed during her time with the C.I.A.

Her thoughts run rampant, staring blankly at the food sizzling in front of her. She’s completely drowned in her mind, detached from the physical world. When Three enters the kitchen, declaring his presence with a bag dropping onto the table with a loud bang, Two’s pulled back to reality. She offers a glance at him, a hint of a smile twitching at roseate lips. It’s quick to fade, even as he approaches her, taking a place right over her shoulder. “It smells good,” he mumbles, brushing lips against her ear before planting a small kiss and returning to the table.

“It’s the chicken, which I won’t eat. But, it’s supposed to be good for you.” She’s been scouring for recipes, researching foods that were supposed to be good for high blood pressure. Though, trying to find some with meats he would enjoy proved difficult. She has no doubts that this man’s diet consisted purely of salt before she started cooking for him. Not that she cared to play such a domestic role, she also was sick of hearing him complain about the whole thing. It was easier this way, and it gave her something to do besides taking apart guns all day.

Which, seemed to be what Three’s plans for the day were. He sits at the table, pulling a rifle from his duffle bag he’d so carelessly thrown to the table. How the pair ever got to this point, Two’s not sure. She’d never been good at this sort of thing. Even before joining the ghosts, relationships weren’t her strong suit. She doesn’t doubt Three was the same way. Still, her attention needs to be on the dish at hand. She moves to a pot of boiling water, dumping broccoli florets into it. Everything else was ready. The tomatoes had been cut and left to sit on a paper towel and the dressing had been left to cool. All that remained was waiting on the chicken and broccoli to finish cooking.

Three’s said nothing, but Two can assume he’s just come back from another visit to his mother. She turns to glance at him, consumed by his task. “How’s Maria?”

The man stops, almost freezing as the inquiry is made. He meets gaze with Two, offering her a shrug and a shake of the head. “She kept asking about my brother.” His voice is quiet and he’s quick to return to the rifle. Today must not have been a good day and Two almost immediately regrets asking. She’d never had to deal with such a situation and still has no idea how to maneuver through Three’s many emotions.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. Head turns, keeping her eyes off of Three. Not that she didn’t care about his feelings, she just wasn’t sure how to deal with them. Which, she knows comes off as cold and distant. But, if he wanted to talk about it, he would. It didn’t matter, the food was done anyway. The blonde takes the time to finish preparing it, throwing everything into a bowl with a fork and sliding it to Three. She takes a seat across from him, pulling his bag off the table. She waits, chin in the palm of her hand as he takes a bite. She had no idea if he would even enjoy such a recipe, but he was pretty good about at least trying the food.

Thankfully, Three nods as he finishes his bite, a smile curling to his lips. "It's good, I like the dressing. What is that?" He lifts another forkful to his mouth, gesturing the utensil around before he shoved it into his mouth.

"Olive oil with salt, pepper, chili powder, and a bit of lemon juice," she answers. Even on her own mouth, there seems to be a creeping grin. It's soft, easy to miss. She sticks out a hand, beckoning for the fork and a taste. She didn't do all the work just to not get a taste herself. Three indulges her, sliding the bowl in her direction and handing over the fork. He's still chewing his last bite as Two takes her's, avoiding the chicken. Brows knit together as it hits her taste buds, really allowing the flavors to overwhelm her. "Oh, _vache._ That isn't bad."

Three's smile only grows, nodding at her as he takes the bowl and utensil back. Another mouthful is shoved in, having completely abandoned the weapon on the table. Despite what anyone would assume, Three knows that Two’s an excellent cook. Maybe it came with the territory of being French. He’s not sure. But, either way, there had only been a couple of dishes she’d made that he didn’t like. Once, she tried to get him to eat those damn snails. Which, would have been good if it wasn’t for the fact that they were snails.

With his mouth still full, he waves the fork in the blonde’s direction. “Next time, I’ll make something for you.” Two lets out a scoff at the idea, standing from the table to clean up.

“Knowing you, it’ll be full of sodium. You’ll have a heart attack before it makes it to the table.” The sarcastic comment sends a pouty frown to Three’s expression. It’s not like it mattered, he was dead anyway. As far as everyone knew. But, Two was always so keen on reminding him how alive he was. He scoops one last bite into his mouth before standing to clear his dishes.  


“You know, Camille —”  


“You don’t have to do that.” Two’s interrupted him rather quickly as soon as her name leaves his lips. Slate hues draw towards him, approaching her with his bowl. He discards it into the sink before he realizes she’s staring, again.  


“Do what?” Three’s got that look on his face, that all too familiar look. It’s like a confused puppy, one that has no idea why you’ve just scolded them for knocking over a garbage can.

Two’s quiet for a moment, her expression as placid and cold as always. “You don’t have to call me that. Two’s fine.”

There’s a moment, a shift on Three’s face as he looks at her. It’s almost sad, but not for himself, for Two. She wasn’t a woman who one would expect to be fearful, yet Three can’t help but get the impression that’s exactly what she was. It was like the second her birth name left his lips, things became real. They were no longer ghosts, no longer just numbers who shared a bed from time to time. They were alive. Human beings with families, pasts, futures, and feelings. Maybe that was too much for her.


End file.
